Dumbledore's Trust
by kaetingi
Summary: Dumbledore's last thoughts. Rated for character's death. Oneshot.


Disclaimer: All characters belong to J. K. Rowling and associated agencies, and I am making no profit from this work. It's not worth it to sue me as I don't have money, anyway.

**Dumbledore's Trust**

Snape raised his wand and pointed it directly at Dumbledore.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

A green light shot from the end of Snape's wand and hit Dumbledore squarely in the chest . . .

As the greatest wizard of his age fell, memories rushed in upon him, a thousand different things all at once. Somewhere he had heard that when you died, your life passed before your eyes as though it were a Muggle picture show. Dumbledore did not experience it as such. Indeed, the last thing he saw before being blasted over the battlements was the scene before him: Snape, loathing etched on every feature-but could there be something else, too?; Draco, cowering, terrified of what just happened and what was to happen; and, even though his eyes didn't see him there, Harry, leaning against the wall, hidden yet helpless, because of Dumbledore's own silent spell.

In that endless moment, Dumbledore's spirit reached out to Harry, begging him to understand. The spell had been cast for his own good, for what might have happened if Malfoy and Harry tussled unnecessarily while the other Death Eaters burst in on them? Worse, Malfoy might have been pressured into attempting to kill Dumbledore unnecessarily, because of the rivalry felt by those two.

Dumbledore pondered then, as he plummeted over the edge, his spirit departing his body, all those mistakes he had made, over the course of Harry's life. Many were due to what he had thought, erroneously, to be best for the boy. There were so many things he did not get to tell him, so much he did not explain about his life or his past or what he speculated might be coming. All of it, the chances, everything, wasted, never to return.

Then there was Draco, a boy desperately trying to save his own life and the lives of those he loved, doing everything he could to survive, even if it meant going further into the dark than the pale child ever intended to go. So like Harry in so many ways, Dumbledore often wondered why others could not see the similarities, and yet, he could understand. The differences were great, as well, and people always seemed to focus on them. Especially at Hogwarts, which, by its very nature, focused on and encouraged those ultimately unimportant differences.

Finally, Severus Snape stood before his mind's eye, all his actions laid out for Dumbledore to see: the time at Hogwarts, with Severus as a gifted yet dark student, then later as the Potions professor; the time spent as a double agent for the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters; and finally, the Severus Snape Death Eater. Dumbledore did the one thing he knew none of the others would or could ever do for Severus: trust him. Within the original Order, Severus was regarded with hesitancy and doubt; the newly refounded Order, with Remus and Sirius, barely treated him civilly, despite Dumbledore's great imploring that they welcome him as an equal. Dumbledore understood this sentiment but did not tolerate suggestion of disloyalty from any quarter. He staunchly defended the man whenever need arose. He never gave Severus any doubt of his trust in him.

In the end, at that last moment, Dumbledore had to admit, he might have been wrong. He could offer many excuses for Severus's behaviour and last, most grievous act. There were too many witnesses from Voldemort: if he had, in that moment, wavered, he may have been reported as spy and then his life would be in danger. Another might have done the act, though the thought was small comfort to Dumbledore. Dumbledore didn't know if Severus was attempting to save the Malfoys, seeing as Draco was present in the tower as well. Perhaps he even knew that Harry had gone as well that evening and, since he could not be accounted for in the battle below, did not want to endanger him if he was hidden in that room.

The other option lay before him, no matter how hard Dumbledore attempted to ignore it: the Potions Professor committed the murder from his own desire. Severus, of everyone Dumbledore had recruited for the Order, was the wild card. Dumbledore knew where all his other Hogwarts colleagues' loyalties lay; his students, past and present, were plain to him as well; even Mundungus, for all his larceny, honoured his obligation to the Headmaster. Yet even for all the trust he put in him, Dumbledore could never be sure if truly Severus was, as Harry had called himself, _Dumbledore's man_. For whatever reason, the trust was never fully repaid.

In the end, Dumbledore realized, that was his greatest failing. Not the trust of Severus, oh no, for Severus always had needed that trust, whether the others felt or would feel in the future he deserved it. His transgressions lay with the very act of _trusting_ itself. Throughout his long life, Dumbledore's trust in others was liable to be misplaced. Most keenly, Dumbledore felt, it had happened with Harry: when he trusted the Dursleys to provide adequate care for him; when he didn't trust him enough to tell him, for the beginning years at Hogwarts, his heritage and curse; when he trusted the boy to handle everything that presented itself with little or no help from himself or others, despite the pleas to intervene from many sides. Dumbledore's deepest regrets centered on the trust, and sometimes, the lack thereof.

Now that life, for good or for bad, was gone for ever. His portrait would adorn the Headmaster's Office and give advice as needed to the new Headmaster or Headmistress. Briefly, Dumbledore toyed with the idea of becoming a ghost. As it had of late, his mind turned to Harry, and he wondered if, as a spectre, he might be able to assist the boy in the future. Then, as if viewing what that sacrifice meant, he saw within the castle the ghosts. Their presence, empty and bleak in unlife, wandered the halls endlessly, and it would not do for him to join them. Too much lay before him now. As he had once told Harry, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure.

With one last glance at his beloved school, Dumbledore's spirit turned, hearing behind him soft whispering, the voices that drifted from beyond a veil. Without another thought, he turned and joined them.


End file.
